Month: April 2017

In Italian pronouns are a monster. They wash up on the beach like that horrible dead fish in the final scene of La Dolce Vita and we all stand around in class, like Marcello Mastroianni’s crew, discussing how damn gross it is. Tiny little words innocently fill adorable, perfectly symmetrical little charts. Surely, they …

I am not sold on adult birthdays, but this year I had been promised the gift of Wi-Fi. In the morning, I assuredly left the Telecom tech in my apartment with my landlady. With a fancy ladder like that, surely he knew what he was doing. I thought, with stupidly misplaced American assurance, that it …

Although Americans pretty much can’t agree on anything these days, I’d hazard a guess that Rocky Balboa is someone who we all still cheer for. And telling me that you don’t like Rocky is like telling me you don’t like pizza. I don’t believe you. I, like you, still can’t believe that he got punched …